It's The End of the World
by Abby Ebon
Summary: It's all Columbus and Tallahassee good fun. Yes, SLASH! You'll find my answer to LJ zombieland kink prompts here.
1. Belong To Me

**_Belong To Me_**_  
_

_By: Abby Ebon_

Summary: (Prompt: Anon.) Early in an established relationship of some sort:

As usual Tallahassee has been the more aggressive partner and ends up on top when that's on the menu. Columbus want to flip the situation around because /seriously/ have you seen that ass? (From: LJ's zombieland_kink)

* * *

Columbus watched wide eyed, trying not to choke, as Tallahassee climbed out of the naturally warm water spring he'd decided to skinny dip in. And while Columbus could never quite forget it was nature they were washing in, which sort of defeated the purpose of getting clean, right? It was better then waiting to find some place to squat that still had indoor plumping, that much was the truth, and Columbus had sort of gotten used to using natural rivers to wash off in. He figured that the visible dirt and blood coming off had to be healthier to be rid of then any _nature_ germs he might attract.

So, the girls had gone first, and now it was their turn, and Columbus couldn't look away. He wasn't supposed to, he guessed, because Tallahassee gave him a pleased grin, all smug satisfaction and _knowing_. Right then, because of that _look_, Columbus knew he was going to get some. He let Tallahassee stride over to him, his shadow like a cloud covering the sun. Tallahassee was still very, very naked.

Columbus looked (because he could, damn it!) and licked his lips. His eyes lingered longest on Tallahassee's groin, as if he could look though to the other side of him, to see the pale white ass among the golden tan of his muscles like some obscene target, existing only to tempt. Columbus knew he didn't stand much of a chance of getting that ass – but, he took pride in knowing, he had more of a chance then, say, anyone else. Tallahassee was very devoted, and loyal, and – well, Columbus trusted him not to stray, and Tallahassee had never looked. Unlike what Columbus had done, he still felt guilty for the almost something that had been between he and Wichita. Nothing had ever come of it, because when he wanted to - and when he was very decided about who he wanted, Tallahassee moved fast. Thinking back on it – on everything – still sort of made Columbus's head spin.

"You know, you have a nice ass." Columbus said almost absently, without his mouth checking _that_ with his brain. Tallahassee raised an eyebrow, lips twitching in a way that meant that he found that word choice amusing, rather then insulting, which meant – either way – that it was Columbus's ass that was getting approved of in turn. Times like this, Columbus felt vaguely like Tallahassee had his shot gun sights lined up, and Columbus was in the line of fire – which, he guessed, was sort of the point of how he'd gotten in this sort of situation.

Tallahassee crouched down beside Columbus, all powerful thighs and naked warmth reminding Columbus of why he liked their relationship, a lot, and giving him a number of powerful reasons and urges not to change a damn thing. He was glad when Tallahassee kissed him, whiskered lips and jaw, with rough chapped lips working a slick tongue into his throat, abruptly cutting off his mind from his body in a haze of a pleasurable hum that sung through every inch of his flesh. Columbus closed his eyes, enjoying it, because a kiss with Tallahassee was always agreeable and familiar. He'd first thought that kissing would get boring, but Columbus was never _uninterested -_ ever. This kiss, though, was clearly hinting in the "put your mouth to better use, spitfuck" kind of direction. Which Columbus was fine with – really!

If only…his thoughts lingered on the pale ass; curving globes of flesh that were so close (just on the other side of Tallahassee!) and yet so frustratingly impossibly out of reach. Columbus wished he hadn't been so occupied, but he did have a memory and imagination better then most (and that was before America had became Zombieland) and so now he might be the only one...to understand how impossible it seemed to him to shut off the train of thoughts that now crowded around him. Sometimes he felt that only Tallahassee could calm it, so Columbus was determined not to screw this up – what Tallahassee wanted, he got, and Columbus would live with it.

Tallahassee dragged him in closer, laying beside him almost tauntingly sexual- but that was just Tallahassee being Tallahassee, playing his hands teasingly over Columbus's body with his chest and hips at the center of attention. Those were, after all, the places Tallahassee had discovered were the most sensitive upon the front of Columbus. It was only polite to return the favor of attentions. It was perhaps completely unconscious and accidental when Columbus shifted closer in a almost hug, his almost too big hands and long fingers trailing over Tallahassee's hip, setting boldly on the arch of flesh, his finger tips trailing boldly down the cleft of his lovers muscular ass.

"Something you want to tell me?" Tallahassee asked gruffly, with a raised eyebrow and tilting lips. It was not in Columbus to deny the almost magnetic attraction certain parts of Tallahassee held over him. Columbus was flushed red (he felt his cheeks burning, and he would know) and was now not quite looking any more, Tallahassee had gotten used to this sort of reaction – Columbus was…well, Columbus was young – barely grown, he was nervous and equally bold when his mind wasn't on what he was doing.

Tallahassee wasn't stupid and he had grasped a while ago that what Columbus unconsciously did – or accidently, sometimes – was at hint to what he needed most, or was somehow denying from saying, or out right overlooking acknowledging to himself and his needs. Tallahassee had gotten the fact that somewhere along the way, damage had been done to Columbus, and it was something that made his heart ache to see. Columbus thought that everything in the world that he saw, it wasn't for him, he could see it, but he dared not touch it or risk what was real being snatched away from him. Somehow it had sunken into Columbus that with the Texas-Arkansas border nearly two-hundred miles behind them, Tallahassee wasn't going anywhere after all. Neither were Little Rock or Wichita, because they were – as Columbus had once claimed, family – a fucked up Zombieland family, but family all the same. Tallahassee had put it in his mind to fix Columbus; so much as any of them could be put back to rights. So he waited, and watched, and knew that Columbus would say something to answer him even when he was uncomfortable with it.

"I…it's nothing." Columbus mumbled, pink cheeked all over, and now Tallahassee was really interested and quirked an eyebrow, because he wasn't the sort of man to just let this sort of thing rest when it came to Columbus.

"No, it's not, I know you want me. Now, speak up, _what_ about me do you want?" Tallahassee knew he was teasing, laid out fully naked for Columbus's eyes to wander over, it was a vulnerable position, but if Tallahassee couldn't trust Columbus – well, he was more then merely broken inside. Columbus got a skittish look, wide eyed and a bit panicked, as if he thought Tallahassee might just leave if he got offended, and that wasn't what Tallahassee wanted Columbus to be thinking about at all.

"Tallahassee…it's fine, I'm fine. We don't – you don't have to do anything, for me – like that… really!" Columbus stammered and stuttered, and if Tallahassee didn't have such control over himself, he would have rolled his eyes. Columbus was backing up, as if in some part of his mind he wanted Tallahassee to leave well enough alone and not hurt him. Hurting someone wasn't only a physical thing, as Tallahassee well knew.

"No lying, that was the deal – you have needs, and I have needs, and I won't lose you because of something you'd rather not say you need." Tallahassee hung doggedly onto the topic, because he wouldn't loose his Columbus because of either of them being afraid to say something to upset one of them. Besides, there wasn't much Columbus was so skittish to say, most of the time he just blurted something out randomly and was left in the wake such words left.

Besides, the interesting thing was that whatever Columbus would rather not say, Tallahassee was pretty sure it had something to do with his ass. He was curious, to say the least, because Columbus was usually too damn shy and young to be hinting at what Tallahassee suspected he wanted – it was why he had had to get good at reading the kid, just in case something like this came up.

"Okay, okay – I, I-want-to-be….in-your-ass! Please-don't-leave-me…or-get-angry! You asked!" Columbus all but wailed that last bit, not really pausing to take a breath as he blurted the words out so quick that Tallahassee had to take a moment to even acknowledge that the words he had heard had, yes, been in English. Columbus eyed him, shivering and twitching all over, truly wary of how Tallahassee would take his words once they were sorted out. It didn't take all that long.

"Do you now?" Tallahassee asked with a tilted head, he couldn't deny that he was _interested_ in what Columbus might do if he agreed to give over control. It might be worth it, just to see Columbus's expression in turn. Tallahassee knew he wouldn't be hurt, because Columbus was too careful of him and his needs while not acknowledging his own (that was Tallahassee's job, after all, watching after Columbus) and it wasn't as if Tallahassee had some male dignity to defend, Columbus was his – but the thing was, Tallahassee belonged to Columbus just as much, such things went both ways.

"We, you – don't have too, I…I love you, I like what we have, love it. It doesn't have to change if you don't want it too…" Columbus was looking at him as if expecting to see a train wreck coming at him, but neither of them were the sort of person to just stand there and stare, they would do something, help – or just search the wreckage for what they needed. It was after all, Tallahassee had guessed, partly the reason so few people had survived.

"But you want more?" Tallahassee soothed and coaxed, his bigger hand soothing the white knuckled one clenched at Columbus's side. A shiver ran over the younger man, and he was at least reassured enough to answer, though he dared not touch back – yet – because the words came stumbling out of his mouth and lips as Tallahassee had wanted them to.

"Yes!…no…I…I, Tallahassee?" Columbus whimpered his name, as if he thought the older man would just get up and walk away. It was why they'd fallen so easily into the habit of Columbus taking and Tallahassee giving, because Columbus simply would not have risked it any other way – but now, Tallahassee thought, Columbus was getting interested and bold – as Tallahassee had suspected he had it in him, because you couldn't survive a Zombie Apocalypse without being somewhat flexible and open minded about these sort of things. At least Tallahassee hoped not –it'd get kind of boring.

"Go ahead." Tallahassee made an inviting gesture, and Columbus made a soft little sound of triumph (which if Tallahassee were perfectly honest, he thought was a little adorable) and crawled up onto him, all long limbs and eagerness. Columbus kissed him, soft lips and smooth skin, though with a very angular and masculine face, so there was no pretending it wasn't his lover, Tallahassee liked being wanted as much as anyone else, and gave over to the kiss, letting Columbus straddle his hips and invade his mouth with his tongue.

Careful figures probed and prodded between his legs, and Tallahassee spread them easily enough for this teasing, though it was as if Columbus thought it would be easier for Tallahassee to give up control while being distracted with a kiss and a teenager in his lap. He smiled a bit, but let his Columbus have his way, and when Columbus wriggled away between his legs Tallahassee could only watch as lips and tongue went to work on some of his most intimate parts. He wondered how Columbus expected him to last, doing something like _that_ with his mouth, but let him have his way, giving over control wasn't something someone like Tallahassee could do easily, but for Columbus he would try.

The tips of a tongue taunted him, teasing along the length of his flesh even as an impossibly hot mouth covered him and left a wet trail all the way down…

"Oh, god – kid!" Tallahassee gasped as a clever tongue circled his anus and flicked and teased it's way in, Tallahassee was impossibly pleased with this – and was surprised that Columbus had had this sort of thing in mind, though he was likely only doing it now because he'd seen Tallahassee skinny dip clean, and damn it – Tallahassee vowed he'd do it every damn day if Columbus would only keep doing _that_.

It was obscene, but when Columbus looked up at him, the trail of saliva coming out of his mouth almost undid Tallahassee right then and there. He had – should have – more control over his body (in the very least) then this, but no – his younger lover was making it very clear who was now in control of whom. Tallahassee wouldn't have it any other way, there was something freeing in this, giving up what Columbus needed, showing the utter trust in the act of submission.

Columbus wiggled an invading finger in, and Tallahassee hadn't noticed until then that had been the goal all along. He'd been nervous about it, a little, but Columbus was very good at distracting him into not noticing these sorts of things. One finger became two, and he didn't give a damn as Columbus sucked and teased his cock, wide blue eyes not flinching from his.

Scurrying forward up Tallahassee like Columbus was a monkey and he was the tree, a kiss was offered and taken, and then something solid and blunt nudged against his asshole wantonly. Tallahassee took a breath, even as he felt Columbus tense up all over in unsure anticipation.

"Come on, do it..." He urged tauntingly, as if he thought Columbus couldn't or wouldn't, when he knew the facts stood to prove just the opposite. Sometimes though, his boy just needed a bit of verbal encouragement.

"You sure you want me to…?" Columbus was not so easily swayed, but when Tallahassee demanded a kiss, as if to turn the tables once again, Columbus thrust unconsciously forward- over eager, into the heat and tightness that was Tallahassee. With a indrawn breath and easy sigh, Columbus realized what he'd done to Tallahassee, and his face was brilliant red and his lips were bruised and pouting as he panted, closing his eyes as if to savor it.

"Move it, Columbus." Tallahassee would have none of that, and shoved upward with his hips, forcing movement. It was action and reaction, and taking and giving, and domination and submission, most of all though, it was their partnership in movement and unending feeling. Their action in coupling would end, eventually – and they would mourn its passing and rejoice in its return, but the bond of emotions between them – that was what it was all about in the end. That way, there would be no ending.

Tallahassee found himself then urged onto his hands and knees, going willingly with nipping kisses and warm breath on his neck, and Columbus hot and eager to please upon his back, fucking him. When bitten nails dug into his shoulders, Tallahassee called out; yelling as he came swift and hard and knew he might as well be on his knees. Columbus let out a stuttering breath ending in a half-grunt, and all his tension was drained and milked out of him, he fell against Tallahassee, who was still kneeling in front of him, his warm weight a trembling burden that Tallahassee would never grudge. Tallahassee let himself onto the ground, well pleased when Columbus curled protectively against his back, even breaths lulling Tallahassee into a calm only an attacking zombie might stir him from.


	2. Sex Me NOW, Please!

**_Sex Me NOW, Please!_**_  
_

_By: Abby Ebon_

Summary: This prompt (_Somebody slips Columbus Viagra as a joke. __Tallahassee__ suffers the consequences_.) is to blame and **zombieland_kink** is taking over my writing...

* * *

It was, Columbus thinks, a joke. Or at least it started out that way, if he recalls that memory that maybe-started it all, he can still see Wichita's grinning face as she passed him his share of their evening food. It was supper, or so much as one can claim that sort of thing when there are only two meals in a day, as breakfast is a must if you're going to be seeing zombies before dinner. Little Rock and Wichita were on one side of the house, he and Tallahassee had bedded down on the other. Columbus can think of reasons, any number of reasons –almost uncountable many - that Wichita had done it, ranging from "she's crazy confusing!" to "maybe it was to get back at me for that kiss?"…none of that helps him now.

Columbus bites down on his bottom lip, stifling the urge to whimper, because Tallahassee is only _just across the room_, and won't be pleased in the least to have his sleep disturbed. Columbus feels hot all over, and his skin is shivering under the slick sweat that covers him from his hair to his toe nails.

He's never felt this way before, not ever, and he wishes it would just _go away_. He thought he might be sick, until his cock had twitched and he'd had to stifle the soft little moan that had wanted to come out at the thought of Wichita straddling his hips in a white nurse's skirt. Columbus shifts so that he's turned to his side (away from Tallahassee) and he can't believe he's doing this, and he vows not to make a sound – but he wiggles his boxers and pj bottoms (yes, he wares pajamas, you never know what might try to bite you while you sleep in a zombie-infested world) down past his hips, because while he could just fumble with the flaps, his fingers are trembling and achy with the heavy sureness of what he is doing, and it is just easier to be sure of getting his clothes out of the way _this way_ –rather then risk cloth slowing him down.

His breath catches – because he can't be gasping for it, not yet – as his warm palm meets the length and seems to burn with urgency all the more fierce, just from that one little touch. His fingers wrap around and squeeze and he almost cries out, and he feels so frustrated and needy he would not be surprised if his eyes were damp. He can't touch himself without it getting worse and him wanting _more of everything_, but he can't do it all on his own - and Columbus resolves to do this quickly. To just get it over with, so he can sleep and not wake Tallahassee who might just kill him – or _worse_ – for doing this in the same room where Tallahassee is sleeping. He's never been one for sex (mostly because, yes, he still is a virgin), or self gratification, because it's messy and lonely. Yet he can't help it as he touches himself under the sleeping bag, not quite sure how to do it, but knowing he _has_ to do it, and it's like he has no choice and his body is making him do this to himself all on it's own – and there is some shame in that, because who would admit to being so weak as to blame their sexual needs on their body?

Columbus licks his lips in the midst of his effort, pulling and tugging and needing more and wanting less, and when he comes he bites his bottom lip and muffles the sound in his arm – he's there, on the edge and waiting to fall but he's smart enough to try and not make a sound, because Tallahassee is a light sleeper but _can not_ hear him ….

"Kid…? Hey …hey – Columbus, you alright…?" Tallahassee mumbles, sounding half asleep, but –as Columbus knows from previous experience - really awake and aware, just like that. Columbus presses his lips together so he can't make a muffled squeak of mortification or of thwarted temptation. He waits to answer, to get his voice and feelings under control – and just maybe Tallahassee will think he's woken up Columbus and not the other way around, because Tallahassee is already moving around and checking the room for anything, just in case.

"F-fine…" It sounds weak and wobbly, like he was crying (well, that fits, because he _wants_ to cry) not a bedroom voice at all – and Columbus is both mortified and grateful for this. He doesn't want to clue Tallahassee into the fact that he's trying to _do things_, yet at the same time if Tallahassee thinks he's having an emotional girl-moment, well, maybe Tallahassee will just leave Columbus alone…and…and maybe go sleep on the couch. Columbus finds out too late that he makes a little keening in the back of throat at that thought, because he doesn't like to be left alone – not even while dealing with his body's issues - and Tallahassee is one of the only people left in the world that he knows and trusts.

"Don't sound so fine to me. Can't sleep? What is it, nightmare? Best to tell me and just get it out that way I can go back to sleep sometime tonight." Tallahassee moves closer, and Columbus peers up at him, his skin still shivering and tingling with the pressing need, and Tallahassee looks at him and doesn't like what he sees, frowning and shuffling in for a closer look. Columbus wonders only then if he is sweating or fevered looking, and maybe this really is a sickness and not a trick at all?

Tallahassee reaches out to touch his forehead, his hand cool and firm – soothing – against the heat and need swimming in Columbus's blood. In that moment Columbus isn't as careful as he should be and let's out a little sigh, his breath hitching at the end of it as he realizes what he's done. He looks up wide eyed at Tallahassee waiting to be smacked or hit or turned away, because surely Tallahassee can't think that _that_ would be a sign of sickness?

Columbus is just a little surprised when those fingers run though his hair, along his cheek, and he shudders and tries not to whimper, or whisper _please_. Columbus is very aware of how exposed he is, with his cock twitching under the sleeping bag, his pajamas at his thighs - and Tallahassee just sitting there and staring at him with an odd look in his eye – it's worried and pitying. He almost thinks that Tallahassee has it all figured out, when he leans in closer, voice soft as if Tallahassee doesn't want him getting upset.

"You sick?" Tallahassee asks, and there is hopeless sort of helplessness - but no, because Tallahassee is never _helpless_, that is Columbus all the time - in his voice, because this is Zombieland (as if Columbus could forget…) and getting sick means weakness and weakness, well, that means Columbus might die all the sooner for it. Not that he had thought to survive this…. Columbus hadn't thought until then that Tallahassee might miss him if he died; he had in fact mostly convinced himself that this comradeship and almost-friendship and almost-family thing was all in his head.

"N-no, go away. I'll sleep it off." Columbus says, dizzy with the need and want and _yes, please touch me _swimming and swirling though his head. Tallahassee though, is stubborn, and some part of him must think of Columbus as one of his own, and Tallahassee is possessive and protective of those that are _his_.

With a hand still on his head so Columbus is too distracted to suspect what might be going through Tallahassee's mind, his other hand yanks down the sleeping bag in a hasty movement that leaves all of Columbus's secrets exposed. Tallahassee looks at his trembling belly and shivering thighs and twitching cock, and he gets this look on his face – and it isn't disgust, and Tallahassee meet's his eye though Columbus tries to turn his face (but Tallahassee is still touching his face) into the pillow and hopefully suffocate himself in record time, the feverish flush is very obviously becoming blushing lust and embarrassment.

"Something you want to tell me?" Tallahassee is gruff but he doesn't make a move to go away or pummel Columbus into the dirt of the floor.

"I…I think Wichita slipped me something, I…I'm sorry…._please_, just, it isn't personal – just go away and forget it….?" Columbus is very aware that he might just lose the one person he considers a sort-of best friend, and he tries to bridge this – tries to make it right. Tallahassee's finger trails over his lips and Columbus gasps and shivers and he's _so hard_ and he _needs this_ – he forgets who's touching him, closes his eyes and feels it – feels how much better it is to not be the only one touching himself. How much easier it is to just let someone else do it to him, and give over that little bit of control to sooth the burning need, the craving…

"What if I don't want to go away, Columbus? What if I don't want to forget?….what if I want this too, what if I want you, and I want you to remember….?" Husky and deep, Tallahassee has a much better bedroom voice then anything that Columbus could mimic. It just fits and he can't help but thrust his hips, and when Tallahassee moves his hand between them, pulls down his bottom bedroom clothes till they are jerked off completely, it just seems natural to let Tallahassee have his way when he touches and teases his thighs and moves lower and up and scrapes a bitten nail roughly against Columbus's entrance.

It's the only hint to what Tallahassee might have in mind, and things and thoughts race though Columbus's mind, he's never done this – but Columbus always sort of expected he might prefer both sexes, so he knows only the basics, that he'll need lube to ease Tallahassee's way into him – that it might burn, but the prostate is there too, and there will be the feeling of fullness and weight, and that he'll need lots and lots of prepping (fingering, he thinks they used to call it) or he might rip something then bleed out and die – and in a world of _zombies_ and no medical treatment, wouldn't it just be his fucking luck (_fucking_…Columbus tries not to giggle, because he thinks that's what Tallahassee wants…) to die of ass sex.

"What if this is what I want, huh?" Columbus cries out, as that finger presses and trails down his crease, teasing – Tallahassee was _teasing_ him. He was going to die trying not to let go of that ledge he's hanging onto with only his fingertips (when, only a while ago he had been trying with equal fever to let go) so he won't find release and Tallahassee won't be…be _disappointed_ with him?

Columbus can't help it when his hips thrust upward and he loses his mind, slipping though time, so full and rushing to nothing, overflowing, and wetness is on his belly and Tallahassee is coating his fingers on it (is he going to _lick_ them? Columbus doesn't know and can't help but want to see it…) and using Columbus's own semen on Tallahassee's slick fingers to massage his way into the passage Tallahassee seems fully intent to possess. Columbus doesn't mind this touching, soaking up the afterglow, but when pleasure shivers under his skin and tightens his belly and makes his breath catch, he can't help but think – somewhat exasperated – _again, really_?

It's the last thing that Columbus can think for a while as Tallahassee touches him with a consuming single-minded intensity that he can barely breath around, yet Columbus knows – _knows and trusts_ – that if he wanted Tallahassee to stop, all he would have to do would be _ask_, and Tallahassee would, no questions asked – and that blows Columbus away and gives him the control he needs to stay calm and just let Tallahassee do what he likes to him, and enjoy every minute of it.

Columbus is aware that he _wants_ this, when Tallahassee goes between his legs, lifts them up, and presses the blunt head of his cock against Columbus, and Columbus wants only to say _more, please, Tallahassee – more, I want it, want you – please_, and maybe he does, or Tallahassee is physic because certainly some sort of message gets across. Tallahassee takes him, and there is for Columbus to feel is the burn and the fullness and under and over it all is the need and craving and, till Columbus can't tell what is what and what is wrapped around or over what feeling and all there is, is Tallahassee and what Tallahassee is doing to his body.

"God…" Tallahassee says, and there is praise and awe and fear there, and Columbus doesn't quite realize that Tallahassee is referring to him; to the feelings they share – that Tallahassee can feel because of him, _because of Columbus_ – until Tallahassee is thrusting in and Columbus is there, right there on the ledge and the drop into overfilling nothing, and he cries out and comes when Tallahassee thrusts in only once and he's gone, but thinks – drowsy and tired but not quite satisfied, _is he going to stop?_

Tallahassee doesn't, he in fact thrusts into Columbus so many times that Columbus can't count and loses track how many times become too much and not enough and he's still hard and when Tallahassee grips his hips like he's trying to bruise him (mark him, claim him, because Tallahassee is his and he is Tallahassee's) Columbus _knows_ that Tallahassee has found that same ledge that Columbus has climbed and fell off of so many times he's dizzy and can't think past the pleasure but craves more all the same – when Tallahassee jumps off, Columbus is right there with him – and that seems more right and honest and true then anything that Columbus has ever said or known.

For a while that is enough, and Columbus sleeps, his belly and ass sticky and wet, curled and cuddled with Tallahassee, in his half-sleep half-waking, he thrusts against Tallahassee like a dog in heat and Tallahassee is awake because he's a light sleeper, and when Columbus wakes up halfway because of the craving and need crawling up is spine and under his skin, Tallahassee is watching him with a half grin.

"Again..?" He asks, and Columbus whimpers with his need, and hopes and despairs of this need and craving ever going away.

Its eight hours later (only five of that spent sleeping) when they come down for breakfast, Wichita has the plates set out, even though it's past noon. Tallahassee tilts his head at her, looking down at Columbus's food, as he asks what Columbus is too shy to say.

"So, how long does that Viagra last?" Wichita flushes, but shakes her head.

"Only four hours, why…?" Tallahassee let's out a bark of laughter, and won't say why he asked – Columbus never answers because he knows that it wasn't the Viagra at all, it was him, and if he ever says anything, Tallahassee might fulfill that threat of telling the girls he's a "sex kitten" – Columbus might want to see their faces, a little - but he'd rather not have to deal with him thinking about them thinking about Tallahassee in the sack – because Tallahassee is _his_.


	3. My Bitch

**My Bitch  
**

_By: Abby Ebon_

Summary: Written for this prompt here (Tallahassee/Columbus. Two words: cock ring.) from **zombieland_kink** where it seems I'm determined not to be anon. though that sort of is the point, I think.

* * *

"Ah, god, I hate you!" Columbus writhed and jerked, helpless, and considered seriously doing as Tallahassee had demanded from the start. All he had to do was ask for it. Ask for the blunt tip, the thick length, the probing heat to smolder and sooth the need – the heat that was bubbling in his belly. He was sitting at the edge, swinging his bare feet over the abyss and thinking longingly of the jump down. Or that's what it felt like. He needed this.

Tallahassee leaned over him, rough lips caressing his ear as Columbus shuddered and went slowly insane. Tallahassee was enjoying this far too much, Columbus a lithe and wanton thing beneath him, bare skinned, his only dressing the socks on his feet and the ring around his cock.

"Love you too, spit-fuck." Tallahassee murmured huskily, lips not even touching skin, yet Columbus gasped sharply as his cock twitched and was thwarted from nearing release. Tallahassee watched him move, enjoying it – smirking as Columbus shuddered and jerked.

"I wish." Columbus purred, his nickname aptly manipulated into his whim, his eyes becoming eclipsed by his need. Tallahassee loved it when Columbus looked like this, loved it that Columbus let him do this to him, so often the younger had held tightly to reason, and shied from attaching himself further to people, for fear of the harm they might bring.

Columbus had never had a family that loved him, that suspected nothing but good of him, that trusted him only to be himself. Only with Tallahassee had he found such love. Tallahassee at once abhorred being the sole source of the only love that Columbus had ever known, and was in awe of it, utterly besotted with his little lover.

It was, as Little Rock had grumbled, too adorably disgusting for words – Columbus was the heart of their little family, but the sisters didn't like it that Columbus would do whatever Tallahassee asked, or go along with it, without considering his own needs first – but he had Tallahassee to watch out for them both. Tallahassee had been fine with the way things worked until they'd said something, and he'd remembered - Columbus had promised to do anything Tallahassee liked, but beg – Tallahassee was intent on proving that, yes, he would.

And like it.

"Oh, about how much…?" Tallahassee took a breath, smelling Columbus his musk and sweat and sex scent, he held it, savored it, then sighed softly against the nap of his lovers neck. Tallahassee was determined not to give in, and that meant that he had to use somewhat underhand means – begging, asking for what you need, that required trust – and it was that last little bit of utter trust that Tallahassee wanted and craved. He knew that he'd never stray from Columbus's side, that he'd always think in terms of 'we' and 'us' and he wanted that, always. He wanted Columbus to acknowledge that in this little way, that as long as Tallahassee was able – Columbus would come first, his needs would be met.

"Lots…and I'd like it, too, we both would, you know." Columbus vowed, eyes never staying from meeting Tallahassee's in a promise. It was Tallahassee's turn to shiver under his lovers eyes, clenching his teeth and gritting his teeth.

"Columbus…" Tallahassee warned his voice a growl, and Columbus was watching and enjoying the little bit of control he had – that he could affect Tallahassee while he was helpless, and Tallahassee clinging rigidly to his own self made rules.

"Let me go." Tallahassee was tempted, but he knew when a question was asked, when asking became begging. There was no harm in begging, but there was a thin line between begging and pleading – and Columbus would never plea for anything so long as Tallahassee lived and breathed. The trick was in making Columbus see that.

"No. We need this." Tallahassee hated himself for being such a coward that the only way he could get Columbus to see the truth was to hold him at a disadvantage. It was for Columbus that he did this – for them both.

"I like what we have, it's fine the way it is – why change it…." Columbus wiggled temptingly, silver glinting tauntingly around his cock. Tallahassee had only to unfasten it, spread those thighs, and pound and thrust into a wiggling and willing body.

"I was more. I want you." Tallahassee hissed, letting his fingers trail against Columbus's cheeks to his jaw, ending the contract only at those bruised lips.

"Oh…" Columbus's eyelids fluttered, and he whimpered as they closed, looking up at Tallahassee with eyes half lidded, and dazed with pleasure.

"Please, please touch me, do it – take me, yours - please let me….?" Columbus whimpered, and Tallahassee let himself breath – this, he could do, he could give in now. Tallahassee's fingers slipped down and Columbus arched into his hand, whining and panting as Tallahassee played with him, when the bigger man moved in-between his legs, fingers probing at the slicked ass, Columbus could only tremble and gasp as he was given what he had begged for.

"Mine… my bitch." It was a promise, a vow, and Columbus felt himself falling, jerking helplessly beneath Tallahassee's grasp as he was filled up, overflowing and knowing he'd always be taken care of, loved, protected – simply because Tallahassee had said.

Columbus waited until Tallahassee stilled, breath hitching with a grunt, and warm skin pressed against his, threatening to melt him to the core and meld them into one.

"Yours…" Columbus agreed against that slick skin and heat, and Tallahassee stirred (though Columbus had thought he'd doze) to kiss him into welcoming the silence of the night.


	4. Zombie Kill of the Week

**Zombie Kill of the Week  
**

_By: Abby Ebon_

Summary: Supernatural/Zombieland, Dean Winchester/Tallahassee, "that ain't the best zombie kill of the week..." In my mind, this all happened pre-_Zombieland_. And somewhere in the AU future of _Supernatural_.

* * *

Tallahassee was a hunter, that being a hunter of the supernatural and things that went bump in the night under your bed and would kill you sooner then look at you - before he settled some and started to raise Buck. He imagined that Buck would have been a hunter too, one day, if he would have had the chance. Yet he wouldn't have raised Buck while hunting, that lesson had been learned, because there wasn't a hunter alive who hadn't heard of the Winchester brothers. Tallahassee should have expected this, of course they would have survived a zombie world ending event.

Tallahassee had parked for the night at a bar, had considered getting drunk. That was before he walked in and found himself pressed up against the wall, a sawed off shotgun under his jaw – Tallahassee's wide eyes and choked off words were enough of a hint to his not being infected, he thought. He'd heard rumors that the Winchester boys (who'd certainly grown up some) were the sort to shot first and ask questions later, or – at least – one of them was.

"Dean, no – Dean, he's human!" Sam yelped, (because if the one pinning up against the wall was Dean as it certainly sounded like, then the other had to be Sam, of course, the boys always traveled as a pair, it was how they'd survived, and how they'd been raised) and it was then that Tallahassee took in the time to see that Dean wasn't in the best of conditions. He shook and blood was getting all over the place.

"Bitten?" Tallahassee grunted the question past the metal under his throat.

"No – hunter…?" Dean asked, tone sharp and not to be ignored. He had a one track mind, and his mind was on Tallahassee and protecting his baby brother, and Tallahassee knew enough not to ignore the question.

"Yes." He gagged as the hard metal was taken away from his wind pipe and Dean staggered off him, nearly falling to the floor he'd bled out on, and he knew that the weight he'd felt, the hard edges and dangerous intent, had been Dean, all Dean – and he'd been pinned and thoroughly threatened by a man near half-dead. Tallahassee could admit to being a little bit impressed.

"Easy, Dean, it's alright, we're safe. It's alright…come on, sit down." Sam urged, moving Dean with his long limbs and taller body, manipulating his brother into sitting and staying and maybe (if he was lucky) healing up.

"What did this?" Tallahassee asked, because if it wasn't a zombie, and Sam had gone into the thick of things with Dean – how had Dean ended up being the one on the shorter stick? But then, Dean was so obviously protective of Sam to the point of it being possession, but maybe that was because the younger hunter was so out of it. Sam seemed just as protective of his brother, and Tallahassee waited until Sam had gotten Dean sitting before expecting any sort of answer.

"Angel, sort of…." Dean muttered, and Sam glanced to Tallahassee to see what the elder made of that.

"No joke?" Tallahassee tried to wrap his mind around angels and demons and the Winchesters in the middle of a ruined world of zombie-making, and couldn't quite manage it. He trusted them to know what they were talking about, though, and Dean laughed until he choked. Tallahassee liked him, and he realized this when a zombie lurched out of the shadows behind the bar, drawn in by the scent of Dean's blood.

When the zombie went up in flames before Tallahassee could give warning, before he could even bring up his gun from the floor Dean had knocked it down to. A man appeared from no where, and he wore a long coat and a fierce expression, all Tallahassee could say was.

"That ain't the best zombie kill of the week..." Dean started to laugh again, and Tallahassee liked it more then he thought he should.


	5. Taking South's Side Street

Taking South's Side Street

Zombieland, Tallahassee/Columbus, heading south for the winter.

Columbus remembers winter in Ohio being a unpleasant business, and when there is a chill in the air, he looks up and in a world of zombies it doesn't surprise him so much that birds are still flying south in the winter.

It's a good idea and practical for them as well, as they don't have the supplies to bed down and survive three months of white nothing, especially when they don't really know what winters are like in this area. Who knew that paying attention to the news networks covering the whole America might have been a good idea, but Columbus thinks that south is naturally better then north for winter.

"We should follow their advice." Columbus says to no one in particular, as he watches birds fly overhead through the window.

"Whose?" Tallahassee grunts, a flick of his eye in the mirror the only sign that he is listening – though Columbus is supposed to be sleeping. Tallahassee worries about him, sometimes, because yes it's easier to remember who he is – that he is human – with Wichita and Little Rock and Tallahassee, he can think past the fear of living in a world of Zombies.

"The birds….we should fly south too." Columbus mumbles, a little bit of a flush coloring his cheeks as Tallahassee looks out to sees the birds flying too. He's driving, but before Columbus can say anything, his attention is on the road. It'd be stupid to survive Zombieland only to die because of wrecking the vehicle.

"Oh, did they talk to you?" Wichita asks scathingly, as she turns to look at him in the backseat – Columbus knows her name, but he'll never say his so long as Tallahassee doesn't say his. It's grudging and full of raw emotion, and Columbus regrets putting that look in her eyes. He wished he figured out his feeling sooner, he ducks his head but doesn't flinch.

The only sign that her words aren't welcome, that they've struck a nerve - is when Tallahassee breaks and side spins, heading south and following Columbus's flock of birds. Wichita doesn't say anything for a long time, not even when Tallahassee tells Little Rock what they're doing – following a flock of birds, and Little Rock start to give them names after they hit three days and the Mexican border.


	6. Care For Columbus

Care For Columbus

Zombieland, Tallahassee/Columbus, "if y'ain't more careful, I'll show you what 55% power's like"

Columbus writhes and whimpers underneath him, begging and eyes full of need. Tallahassee can not – does not – resist thrusting into that lithe body and its tight heat. Yet he's careful, always so careful, of not hurting Columbus. There are no doctors or waiting room hospitals in Zombieland, and if Columbus got hurt, got an infection, died, because of what he was doing with Tallahassee, he knows he will die.

Columbus whimpers. "More please, more, harder, faster – I want you to fuck me."

Tallahassee shudders and stills above him, and Columbus mewls and arches.

"If y'ain't more careful, I'll show you what 55% power's like…" He hisses, and Columbus's eyes are hungry, and Tallahassee can't resist giving Columbus just what he wants. It's worth it to have Columbus trembling and clinging to him in the afterglow.


	7. Weeping Is Not For The Weak

Weeping Is Not For The Weak

Zombieland, Tallahassee, out

Tallahassee cries now, lets it out, his emotions that he's kept buried deep in fear of them swallowing him up and drowning him while zombies take down the weak – like him – he cries where it's safe and he has people he trusts watching his back – in the wake of the death of his hero. He cries harder for Buck then he cried for the end of Titanic, and while he didn't cry at all for Bill Murray, he does now.

Columbus's hand on his shoulder is warm, and Tallahassee doesn't resist the urge of letting the spit-fuck see his duck-taped wallet, that Buck wasn't a puppy at all, but a boy – his boy who laughed – and Tallahassee let's himself be, just this once, afraid that he'll fail them, Columbus especially, after all. He lets the fear of being too weak out as his cheeks are damp with tears.


	8. Witchy Ways

Witchy Ways

Zombieland, Tallahassee(/)Columbus, Little Rock, Wichita, "he's a witch" "yeah, but he's our witch, so cut him down" (Yes, i want Columbus with weird powers, no, i don't know why :D)

Columbus levitates above their bed one week to the day before they find a handful of survivors, there are ten of them – but when Columbus wakes that day, Tallahassee doesn't say a word, because he is afraid. In a world of zombies, sure, powers will keep Columbus safe –but for every hero is a villain, and Tallahassee can only hope a world's worth of zombie horde is evil enough. Slowly, the rest of their family notices, Little Rock is looking out the window and sad eyed, while Wichita does her best not to see. Columbus bumps his shoulder to hers and smiles worriedly.

"What's wrong?" He asks softly, and then says, "I'm sorry your mom died…." Little Rock never said a word, but doesn't seem to notice as she clings to Columbus in a hug, taking comfort where it is offered. Wichita's eyes meet Tallahassee's in the front seat, but Tallahassee shakes his head and Wichita doesn't say a word- yet. That night, Wichita is gathering firewood, while Tallahassee tags along beside her and back at the camp, Little Rock and Columbus are using the river to wash themselves and the clothes.

"What's wrong with him?" Wichita finally asks, as Tallahassee knows she would, what sort of surprises him is when she looks at him it's with worry and fear in her eyes – for Columbus, not for them, the little family of orphans. Tallahassee finds that right, because Columbus would not hurt them – never, and he's sorry he almost doubted her.

"I don't know, noticed it a night ago – he was floating off the bed, Wichita. I'm starting to think that that show – Sabrina, the teenage witch, had some truth to it. Or whatever, maybe the world just needs some balance, zombies to witches, or something, but…Wichita, he doesn't know." We got to keep it quiet, between us, is left unsaid because if Wichita is smart enough to read between the lines, that Tallahassee has been sleeping with Columbus, then she's smart enough to hear what remains unsaid.

"You're afraid for him." Wichita says it like it's an accusation, and maybe it is. Maybe he wants Columbus to realize they've known about what's going on with him, and still accept him – aren't afraid of him becoming a freak or a witch, before Columbus does. It won't take long – Columbus is smart, smarter then either of them, sometimes.

It takes three days, by then, Little Rock is amusing herself by having silent one-sided conversations for hours with Columbus, (Wichita smiling a little because Little Rock is opening up to someone, finally – and she'd been worried about her little sister and the dreaded teenage years to come) and he doesn't notice she hasn't said a word until he looks at her face – it's a curious habit Columbus has, that, saying things but not looking while the other is speaking, and it's a trait that goes with the silent conversation and the not so silent side - but he looks, and his eyes go wide and Little Rock claps a hand to her mouth, knowing she's let the cat out of the bag without ever actually saying a word.

"Pull over - going to be sick." Columbus says abruptly, and Tallahassee heeds his advice, Columbus struggles to get out before remembering that he's wearing a seat belt and then falls out of the vehicle more so then climbs, and he's throwing up until he's dry heaving and choking and then it becomes sobs.

"Hey, hey, Columbus – it's okay! It's fine!" Wichita says, while Tallahassee rubs his back soothingly.

"How…how can you say that? I've been in her head, talking to her – in her head – what if…what if I've hurt her?" Columbus trembles and shakes, but can not help him self as he leans into Tallahassee's touch.

"You couldn't hurt anyone, why would you? You trust us, and we trust you. It's okay, honest, I…we knew, we've known sense you started sleeping in the air." Little Rock says (out loud this time) and Columbus looks between them, wanting to believe, but so unsure it hurts to look at him.

"How…how can I ever be sure you are all really okay with this, for sure, and it isn't just me making you okay with it?" Columbus asks, and Little Rock visibly rolls her eyes.

"Columbus, you didn't know about, well, you know, your witch-power, until you happened to notice I was having a conversation with you in our minds. I like that; by the way, it's kind of cool." Little Rock mumbles, a little blush on her cheeks, and Columbus only shakes his head, ill looking and fragile, he stands and then he bolts for the forest – Columbus has always – always been the fastest of them, and when he runs they still try to chase him.

"Damn-it, no, get back here spit-fuck!" Tallahassee feels his fear spill out his gut and down and up his spine.

"Come-back, come-back, come-back!" Little Rock is chanting in her head, and they can hear her now because Columbus isn't listening – doesn't want to hear her but doesn't know how to block her out and silence her thoughts.

"Don't leave us! You idiot, we don't want you killed – Columbus!" Wichita hollers from behind them, because even in the midst of a fuck-up break down, someone still has to watch the truck in Zombieland. Tallahassee is a good tracker, but he can't see shit when night falls and Little Rock is shivering but not saying a word about giving up, it tears him in two, and he hates it – but he stops and turns back, and Little Rock who gave up talking a long time ago, only follows. She doesn't say a word, and when they return to Wichita, she only shakes her head. Wichita has been crying, but when Little Rock climbs into the backseat, and cuddles into Columbus's jacket, Wichita's the one that starts driving.

"Where we going, we can't leave him out here…" Tallahassee protests half hearted and broken.

"Columbus always studied the maps with us, he'll know where a town is around here, it's an isolated place, this is, and he'll have to go someplace for supplies, we'll beat him there …." Wichita says, and while Columbus is the one with at least four hours of a head start – they've got Wichita driving, and the advantage.

It's four days too late that they find him, in the town they started out looking in they ran into people and asked them to keep a eye out, gave them their radio frequency, and circled the valley's other little towns in wider and wider circles, desperate and afraid that they might be too late.

Too late because the chatter of "witch hunt" went unheeded and the "burning day" was the very day they returned to that little town and found Columbus starved and stung up on a cross in the middle of town square, wood sticks piled up at his feet – it was an execution, and everyone in town – all ten of them - was there.

Side by side, Wichita and Tallahassee and Little Rock got out of the vehicle, their weapons trained on the people (people, damn-it, not zombies!) surrounding them.

"He's a witch." An old woman sneers at them, her opinion of their loyalty obvious.

"Yeah, but he's our witch, so cut him down…" Wichita says, because she's the only one who's thinking past rage. Wichita isn't quivering in her fury, she's like they are, still and narrow eyed, dangerous and deadly and willing to kill their fellow people for a scrawny spit-fuck that happens to be a witch that Tallahassee loves.

It's three to ten odds, but maybe their willingness to die for a witch speaks for the fact that yeah, the odds aren't good, but Tallahassee and Wichita will make them those odds in their favor because they've got something to lose. Columbus maybe hears them, and looks at them through his hair that's a matted and wet mess.

"Don't." He says, and the ropes around him come loose and he walks off the burning pier, walks to them – to their side, and slips into the vehicle they are going to have to replace because of his blood is on its leather seats. He waits for them, and when Tallahassee is the one who climbs into the back seat with him, he only curls against him and breaths while Tallahassee keeps his eyes and gun on the real freaks.

Wichita drives and Little Rock marks the map with a not a green check mark for survivors, or a black 'x' for ruins, but with a red dot like she wants to blot them out of existence.


	9. Zombie Love

Zombie Love

Zombieland, Tallahassee/Columbus, Rule: Once you go zombie you never go back

_(I'm sorry if this isn't what you had in mind, but two things occurred to me when I read the rule, zombie hunting verses real hunting, and a zombie becoming slowly human…it was too tempting to pass up)_

Tallahassee always loved hunting, but he doesn't have time for it – there is survival, and yes, maybe one day everything in the stores will be rotten mush, and he'll hunt for their food then, but for now he's found a different sort of sport – one that Columbus also approves of and is decent enough to please. Zombie hunting and the buddy system just sort of works - until it doesn't and they get Columbus alone one day…

Tallahassee might never have forgiven himself that, but he couldn't just kill the bitchy spit-fuck, while the place-names had meant to distance them from each other, the names had becomes the person- or the person had always fit the name, and Tallahassee just couldn't. So he kept Columbus, and while Tallahassee doesn't think that Columbus likes it that much, but, oh - when Columbus hunts a zombie – they both enjoy the hell out of it. There is nothing else like it, and Tallahassee might never hunt anything but zombies again, because Columbus learned quickly that there is no hunting Tallahassee, and yes its zombie cannibalism, and yes the zombies were people, and Columbus is a zombie, was a person before that, so while Columbus might one day be horrified, for now it works and Columbus doesn't starve and eating zombie flesh doesn't kill him…

And, something is happening, too – Columbus is changing, becoming a different sort of zombie, something closer to human, not less. Some days it's as if there is a misty haze between Columbus's human mind and the craving for flesh, and the hunting helps him, settles him, and when chap slicked lips start mumbling Zombieland rules, and Columbus sits in the back seat well-behaved and saner then a zombie should be, yet not quite human either, Tallahassee contents himself that maybe he did the right thing after all, saving a zombie, because if this is just a virus, well…there must be some cure, and maybe between Tallahassee and a zombie named Columbus, they can find it.


End file.
